


Traitor

by TheWolves24



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 18+, Angry Sex, Angst, F/M, Forceful Sex, Hot Sex, to me atleast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolves24/pseuds/TheWolves24
Summary: This is what happens after Sansa finds out what Jon has done. With Dany.Now, this is a rough sex story. Heavily forewarned on that count.Based on the leaks that have come out.





	Traitor

Hello all. This is my reaction to those leaks.

**Warning: This will be a rough sex story. Manhandling, fighting, fucking, screaming.**

**You've been warned.**

 

Sansa stood inside her chambers, her hands shaking.

She knew he was back, she had gotten Tyrion’s letter, he had told her everything. From the Dragonpit, to what had transpired on that damned boat.

She also knew he was a Targaryen.

Who had slept with his aunt.

Sansa tried to bite back the intense stirrings of jealousy, wringing her hands even tighter.

_Traitor._

That’s what her mind said, yet her heart said… something different, something she couldn’t bring herself to accept.

A sudden knocking made her turn her head to the door, knowing who it was.

Her anger surged, flared, but she bit her lip, thrusting it all back down.

“Enter.”

He didn’t look different. He looked like Jon.

Just Jon.

He moved into her chambers, shutting the door, pushing the bar down to lock it. Turning to her sadly, his brown eyes took her in.

Her hair seemed redder, her skin more pale, translucent, even more beautiful then he had remembered.

Shaking his head, he cringed under her hateful look, her eyes like ice.

He should have expected it before it happened. Even if he did, the slap would have still made him stagger backwards, hitting the oak of the door.

Sansa was trembling, slapping him again.

Then, it unleashed.

“Idiot!” She screamed, shoving him, over and over, reigning his chest with blows that came up through her soul.

“ _Fucking_ moron!” She screamed even louder, her red hair flying around her, and Jon suddenly knew he had unleashed her wolf, the wolf she tried to tame, the one she held deep inside.

“Sansa! Stop it!” He grabbed a hold of her wrists, pushing her backwards.

“Unhand me!” She demanded, squirming, shoving herself against him even more now.

“Sansa! Stop! Stop it!” He shook her softly.

“Traitor! Fucking traitorous **_bastard_**!”

Flinging her weight into him, she managed to drive him off of her person, however, she knocked them both onto the ground. Crawling away from him, she felt him grab her wrist, flipping her over onto her back.

“Get off of me!” She yelled, bringing her knee up to kick him in his groin.

“Stop it! Why do you think I did it?!”

“I don’t care _why_ you did it, I want you out of here!”

“You think I did it for _me_!? For _her_?!” He yelled, his chest heaving.

Sansa closed her eyes and shook her head, not wanting to look at him.

“You deserted me! Y-You gave the North to that-that _bitch_!” Sansa yelled into his face now, snapping her eyes open.

Jon was shaking, his hands holding her wrists against the ground, not roughly, just hard enough to keep her from striking him.

“I did it _for_ the North! To _save_ Westeros!”

Sansa stopped fighting then, her eyes watering. Lip trembling, she looked away, her stomach dropping.

“Did you _fuck_ her for the North as well?”

Jon felt like a fist had dealt him a blow to his stomach as he watched her face crumble.

Silence.

“Get off of me.” She said, her head drooping to the side now, revulsion swimming in her bloodstream at the thought of him _inside_ the Targaryen Queen.

“Sansa. I-I..”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse. Get off of me.”

Jon snarled, slamming his hand down beside her head, making her flinch, but having the effect he wanted.

She turned her head to stare straight ahead.

The look in his eyes made her want to slink away and sit in a corner somewhere, knowing his control was close to snapping, the haunted look in his eyes saying as much..

“Aye. I fucked her.” He started, and Sansa felt the wave of fury rush over her again.

Throwing her hips up, she tried to wedge his bulk off of her legs, wanting to remove herself from this position, not wanting the man she lo-

Closing her eyes, she squashed that thought, not wanting to admit it. She couldn’t…couldn’t admit that when he left, she found herself missing him, wanting him back home.

And all that time..he had fallen in love with some other woman.

His aunt.

Sansa fought harder. Whimpering when he ducked low enough to breath her air, his brown irises taking her in, nothing but anger swimming through.

“You think I fucked her because I _loved_ her?”

Letting go finally, he climbed off of her, pushing himself to his feet to run his hands through his hair. The manbun he usually supported was loose, making his crazy curls swing about his face, almost grazing his shoulders.

Sansa picked herself up, watching as he gripped her wash basin so hard, Sansa figured there would be an imprint in his hand.

“Did you sleep with Baelish?” He asked her, the question a whisper. Sansa knew though…knew he _knew_ what had happened between her and Littlefinger.

“I don’t see why that matters anymore.” She snapped, rubbing her wrists.

Silence.

Sansa just shook her head at his back, wanting to hit him again. Grumbling, she moved to the door, her hand going to lift the lock bar, but Jon was quicker. He slammed his hand into the wood of the door, making sure she couldn’t open it.

Sansa glared at him, teeth clenched, eyes defiant.

“I asked you a question, Sansa.” He snarled.

Smirking, she pushed her chin up.

“Yes. Are you happy? I seduced him, fucked him, then killed him. Me and Arya. We _planned_ it.”

Sansa watched as his eyes darkened to blackness, and his muscles in his jaw started to tremble.

His reaction was that of rage.

Moving from her, his hand found a pitcher of wine, and he flung it with all his strength against the adjoining wall.

Sansa backed up, feeling her own heart beat start to escalate.

“Feel like that about it do you?” She snarled at his actions, “You have no room to talk, you went off and fucked that Dragon woman! You’re nothing but a hypocrite!” She bellowed, moving to get in his face.

Jon looked like that of an animal. Turning to look at her fully, he grabbed her shoulders, and suddenly pushed himself against her, making it to where he slammed her into the opposite wall.

Sansa gasped, not ready for the next action.

Shoving his lips against hers, Jon tangled his hands in her hair, opening his mouth to plummage into hers.

Sansa felt her control slip away. She knew this should scare her, but, it didn’t. It had the opposite effect on her.

She had lusted after him ever since she had seen him beat Ramsay to a bloody pulp.

Pulling away from her, Jon grasped the front of her dress, ripping it open.

“You think I fucked her because I loved her?” He asked, his voice hoarse, leaning in to claim her lips once more.

Sansa bit his lip, feeling him wince.

His hands fiddled with her corset, ducking his head to lick at the breasts that bobbed at the top.

“You think I didn’t think of _you_ as I was inside her?”

Sansa moaned, ripping at his own clothes now.

“You think hearing you f-fucked that piece of shit didn’t _kill_ me?” He snapped, spinning her around, shoving his chest into her back, his hands dancing at the laces that lay there.

Sansa _felt_ him. Closing her eyes, she tried to stay the images of him with another woman.

“Gods damnit Sansa, you think I _left_ here only for Dragonglass?”

Sansa pushed the rest of her clothing off. Only hearing a little bit of what he was talking about.

Jon spun her around again, her hands whipping out to fiddle with his breeches, hearing them hit the floor.

Jon hissed, aligning himself at her entrance.

“I left here because I knew if I stayed, I’d _take_ you. Make you mine.” He said, relishing in her hips as they thrust against his pelvis, saying what she wanted with just a simple movement.

Her blue eyes locked with his, and he shoved his mouth against hers, forcing his cock inside of her.

Sansa gripped his hair, forcing his head back. Jon felt her shove at him, his cock slipping out.

Sansa shoved him backwards to where he fell across her bed. Looking up at her, his chest shuddered, watching her disrobe completely, her stockings the only thing she left on.

Red hair whipping around, she lowered herself onto him, gritting her teeth, her walls moving against him beautifully.

Jon felt like he was flying and drowning in ecstasy at the same time.

It didn’t feel this way with-with-

Not thinking of her, he saw the red hair that was pinned at Sansa’s head fall loose, now waving about her face as she thrust her hips forward, making her tits push forward to, her hair now tickling his thighs.

“Mine.” She growled, her nails scraping against his chest, almost breaking his skin.

Sansa felt like lady’s spirit had taken her over, making her pull her lips over her teeth.

She was his.

That dragon couldn’t have him.

He was a wolf.

 _Her_ wolf.

Jon felt the beast slip into his blood, sitting up quickly, gripping her arms, shoving them against her sides, watching as her eyes rolled.

“You’re _mine_.” He hissed, dragging his teeth to her neck, pushing them into her soft flesh.

Sansa felt only pleasure, her hips and his crashing into each other, pulling, pushing, thrusting, moving, over and over. Their lips crashing, bruising, lips finding skin. Leaving angry red marks in their wake.

Sansa felt her release fall over her, and her head snapped back, and she released a howl that rivaled that of her direwolf Lady.

Jon followed soon after, his seed flowing hot and deep, scalding her, filling her, making her  _his_ in the most primal way.

They shuddered together, both unable to keep from panting.

Sansa laid her forehead against his.

He looked into her blue eyes, still panting.

“I don’t love her Sansa, I c-couldn’t bare thinking of you here-with him.” He growled, feeling his hackles rise up with that statement.

Sansa nodded, understanding.

“I didn’t kneel to her. Not in the presence of people. In private. She knows though-knows that we could never…I could never. She’s my-my aunt.”

Silence.

Sansa suddenly felt her tears blossom, running over her cheeks. Sobs hit her so hard, she almost had to take a breath.

“S-Sansa. Please…” Jon started, but Sansa ripped her face away from his grip.

She sobbed, moving to stand on her feet now.

“I hated you.” She said, sniffling, her sobs still below the surface.

Spinning around, she was heaving, lips trembling ever more, holding off the choking sobs, just barely.

“I _hated_ you.” Sansa now clutched her heart, feeling it beat uncontrollably.

“I know.” He whispered, moving forward and grabbing her hand.

“I hated you as well. I was so angry…I-I destroyed my cabin room. I got the raven when I was healing from my wounds, before she-before she visited me in my cabins. The night I called her my Queen…Sansa…please…”

Swallowing, he took a deep breath, willing his own self not to cry.

“I couldn’t handle it…” He said, kissing her palm, shoving his face into it, breathing deeply, feeling tears prickle his irises. 

Sansa wrapped her arms around his head, shoving her face into his hair, sobbing like the broken mess she was. Jon wrapped his arms around her torso, both of them shaking with the pain they had inflicted upon each other.

And yet, they had come back to each other again.

He had come back to her.

She to him.

Isn’t that what mattered now?

Jon shut his eyes against her flesh.

_Yes. That’s all that matters now._

 

 

_Fin._


End file.
